


Cocaine Model

by bliztoise



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: BUT NOT THE READER I DIDN'T MAKE THE READER AN OC, Fingering, Gen, Original Character(s), Period Sex, bumped up to explicit lads, don't worry it'll turn sexual, just some side characters, not really sugar daddy hux but more like, sugar!friend hux
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-03-03 20:43:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13349172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bliztoise/pseuds/bliztoise
Summary: You're a cater-waiter because you need the money. He's your friend-turned lover because he has money.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> each chapter can be read as a oneshot, i guess? but they'll all interconnect.

_ It’s only until something better comes along, _ you tell yourself, straightening the black bowtie at your collar. You hate being a cater-waiter, but it pays well (at least, well enough to pay your rent), and your work schedule is pretty open. You just hated dealing with rich people, always giving you dirty looks as you hold a tray with their precious hors d’oeuvres Once-over done, you exit the bathroom in the lobby of the apartment complex.

“Excuse me, what floor is the Bell party on?” You ask the front desk clerk, scrolling through your phone for the email, just to make sure you haven’t forgotten anything.

“Waiters are supposed to take the service elevator, through the back,” He sneers, giving you a nasty look.

“Okay, look buddy, I’m running late, okay, just gimme the damn floor number,” You say, gripping the desk. You work up a little fake malice to go with it, trying to intimidate him. As per usual, he deflates immediately.

“Floor fifty. Make sure you slip in unnoticed. They’re especially pissy today,” The clerk says, checking a list on the desk.You look at his name badge before responding. 

“Thanks _ Clark, _ I will.” You give him a quick smile and quickly make your way to the elevator. It’s a boring ride up, for the most part. You quickly open the door and make a beeline for the kitchen. As you’re looking for a plate to pick up, you’re grabbed by the arm.

“Where have you  _ been _ ?” Sam asks. They’ve been waiting for about a year or so. You aren’t each other’s best friend or anything, but you have their back at work and vice versa. “I’ve been telling Terry that you were ‘over there’, for like, an hour.”

You wave them off. “I’m here now. What needs to go out?”

Sam points at some mini quiches and you scoop the tray up, putting on your best fake smile and heading back out into the living room.

* * *

Making the rounds is always easy. People will flag you down, take three or four of whatever’s on the tray. Some people will stop you to berate you for your apparently  _ terrible _ service. And, try as you might, someone will inevitably stop you to cry on your shoulder. You can’t even count how many times someone has stopped you for a drink and then started telling you their life’s story. At this party, though, you can’t help but feel like you’re being watched. Every time you turn around to confront whoever it is, there’s a shock of red hair and then it’s all the same again.

After about an hour of waiting, you’re standing against the wall, fresh tray in hand. You’ve decided you’re going to take a slight break before diving back into the crowd. Sam sidles up to you, nudging you with their shoulder. “So, what’s the tally so far?”

“I’ve gotten three life stories, four unwanted sexual comments, and two complaints,” You tell them, popping a mini cheesecake into your mouth. You technically weren’t supposed to eat on the job but who was going to tell?

“Well, that’s more than I’ve gotten. Three more life stories and you win the pool. We all put in what, a couple dollars each? I think that’s fifty bucks or so.”

“Ha! And then what? I get to wear some cheap knock-off Armani?” You say, lowering the tray in your hand. Your arm always starts to get stiff after 20 minutes.

“You might be able to buy an Armani button with such petty cash,” A voice says in your ear. Sam yelps and scrambles back into the crowd, their tray almost falling over. You whip your head to the side and see a tall redhead, probably in his mid-twenties, staring back at you, hands clasped behind his back with a slight smirk on his face. 

“Fuck. I’m sorry sir, did you need something?” You inwardly grimace at the fact that you’ve cursed at him, trying to get straight back into professional mode, but his smirk just grows wider.

“No, not really. Just wondering what the help was doing over here, when I’m sure there are people out there just dying to get their hands on your dessert,” He says. He holds out his hand. “Armitage Hux. My father is the lawyer of the man throwing the party.”

You give him your name in response. He’s making you nervous; no guest has ever spoken to you at an event before. They’re normally too caught up in their own affairs. You decide to try to get rid of him. “How can I help you, Mr. Hux?”

“How much do you make at these sorts or events?” He asks, staring out over the crowd.

“E-excuse me?” You’re shocked.

“You heard me. How much money do you normally make at these kinds of events? I can’t imagine it’s a lot. I know these people, they’re stingy.” He pops a grape into his mouth from your tray.

“U-um, well, I make enough to pay the bills and buy some cat food. That’s about it, sir.” This has got to be the most uncomfortable conversation you’ve ever had at a work event.

“That sounds about right. What about for fun? What do you do?”

You blanch. Is he hitting on you? “W-well, not a lot, to be honest. I don’t have the money to go out and do things in the city. I stay home a lot and play with my cat, read books, play video games. I’m broke so I end up re-playing stuff a lot.” You're shocked at yourself. Why are you telling this stranger about yourself?

“How interesting.” He roots around in his pocket for a moment, finally fishing out his phone. “What’s your number?”

“ _ What _ ?”

“You heard me just fine. What’s your number? I’m intrigued, and I want to know more. So, your number please.” You finally turn around to fully look at him.  _ He’s pretty, _ you muse, _ with his high cheekbones and striking blue eyes. But what if he’s a stalker? Although unconventional, this could be how I end up on an episode of  _ Dateline.

“Why should I give you my number? What if you’re trying to kill me or something?”

He huffs, unamused. “I’ll give you three hundred dollars right now if you give me your telephone number.”

“Holy _ shit!  _ You’re joking. No one carries that kind of cash on them. You’re more likely to get mugged that way,” You say, laughing to yourself. He looks nonplussed.

He digs his wallet out of his pocket as well, pulling out three crisp hundred dollar bills. You gape at him and he smiles. A real, genuine smile, not a smirk or a thinly-veiled grimace or borderline-frown. It’s refreshing to him. You finally relent and give him your number. He smiles broadly at you and snatches a mini cheesecake from your platter.

“I’ll be in touch. Now get out there before these go warm.”

You aren’t sure if this is a mistake or not. But, at least you’re three hundred dollars richer.


	2. Chapter 2

Your phone is ringing. You jolt awake, slapping your hand around, looking for it. When you finally grab it from under your pillow, you raise it to your face, squinting at the screen. It’s an unknown number, so you hazard a guess and answer it, figuring it’s your boss (you never saved his number, in a last-ditch attempt to convince yourself that this job was temporary). Your voice is pretty much a croak as you answer. “Hello?”

“I’ve been ringing the button for your apartment for an hour. Answer me.”

Hux’s voice on the other end jars you awake. How did he get your address? You rub your eyes as he continues talking, something about plans for the day? You stumble out of bed finally, making your way to the door. You buzz him up and hear him hang up. You unlock your door and head to the kitchen island. You’re pouring yourself a bowl of cereal as he comes in, politely stooping down to pet your cat, Diana. She rubs eagerly along his fingers. It surprises you, as she’s never one for strangers.

“It’s noon, why were you still asleep?” Hux asks as you pour some milk into your cereal. Diana starts to beg, so you call her up onto the counter, pouring her a little puddle. “Aren’t you worried she will leave some there and it’ll rot?”

“One, I had a late night, so. Two, no we both have an understanding. I give her some milk, she laps it all up, and she leaves me alone when I eat my cereal. Otherwise she just stares at me until I’m done. It’s unnerving. Also, where did you get my address? What are you even here for?” You move to your coffee table, slouching over your cereal as you sit on the floor. Hux takes the oversized loveseat you bought off of Craigslist, giving it a curious look before settling down. 

He takes out his phone, opening his messages, scrolling up a bit in the conversation before showing you. “You did.”

You groan, as sure enough, there’s your name and number, your address in a text bubble. You must’ve given it to him after a night out, egged on by your friends. They were immensely curious about the man that had given you money for your number at work. “Alright but like, what are you doing here? What’s the plan?”

“Well, I thought we’d go out. As I said last week, I’m curious about you. I have a driver downstairs, waiting, when you’re ready to go. I thought we’d go to Le Champignon Grillé, they have a mushroom steak that’s to die for, talk, then maybe take in a show,” Hux says, not even looking at you as he types something into his phone. You put down your spoon, half out of shock, half because you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Whoa, whoa, a  _ driver? _ I don’t...need a driver. Tell him to go home,” You command, but it sounded more like a plea. “I have a perfectly good Toyota Corolla downstairs. I’ll drive. Second of all, I can’t afford some fancy French place.” You see Armitage open his mouth. “No, shut up. I’m not letting you become some kind of sugar daddy, or whatever. Even going to an actual  _ restaurant _ is expensive for me. I’ll pick where we go. You’ll love it, trust me.”

Hux looks like he’s going to argue, but you give him the stink eye until you see him dial. He has a short conversation with his driver and hangs up. He looks at you expectantly. Sighing, you grab your cereal bowl and get up, rinsing it in the sink. Hux gets up to wander your apartment as you search for the non-dirtiest clothes on the floor. He peruses your kitchen, taking in all of the stuff in your pantry. “Why do you have so many packages of...Ramen Noodles? What are these?”

“They’re just what they say, Ramen Noodles. They’re dehydrated noodles with different flavor packages. Are you telling me even a rich guy like yourself hasn’t had Ramen Noodles?” You call from your bedroom, rolling on some deodorant. 

“Never,” Hux says, inspecting the packages. There’s at least three or four of each flavor, all some gaudy bright color. It unnerves him to know you eat like this. “They sound disgusting, and not at all healthy.”

“They’re good as fuck, and cheap too. I got all of those packages for twenty-six cents a pop! That, and Pop-Tarts were on sale too. I still have some left if you want something quick,” You reply, throwing on your hoodie from the other night. It still faintly smelled like some perfume, so you figure it’s still good for a couple of days.

“I think I’ll be fine going without ,” Hux says, looking disdainfully at the foil wrapped pastries. “Are you ready yet?”

You shrug to his denial of the food as you amble out of your room and grab your keys. “Yea, yea I’m ready. I think my wallet is in my car, so let’s go, Your Highness.”

Hux follows you down to the small parking lot behind your building. You see him grimace as his eyes train on your car as you unlock the doors. You gesture to the passenger side. “After you,  _ Mr. Hux _ .” He rolls his eyes but gets in anyways. 

“Now, we’re going to hit up this food truck a couple blocks away and I think my friend Kimmy is working today and will let us in the aquarium for free, you just gotta be cool, okay?”

“A food truck?  _ Breaking into an aquarium _ ? What are you, a criminal?” Hux says, staring at you, one eye slightly squinting.

You throw your hands up in a “what?” gesture. “I just know people! You have to in this town. Now, are you going to continue to be a snob, or can I interest you in some gyros and a touching tank?” You say, throwing your car into reverse, backing out of your spot. Hux, grips the sides of his seat, unused to actually seeing the road in front of him. He’s used to being in the backseat of a limo, not the passenger side of a 1987 Toyota Corolla. He’s worried the whole frame might just drop around them, like some kind of cartoon.

“First of all, that’s not what it mean to ‘know people’. Second of all, I haven’t even said yes!” He exclaims, whipping his seatbelt across his body. You snicker.

_ “You _ woke _ me _ up, so we’re going to do what  _ I _ want, capisce? And I want to illegally go to the aquarium and I want to eat greasy truck food. You can leave if you want, but I don’t think you’ll want to move out of a moving vehicle. Also, you said yes to my plans when you followed me down the stairs.”

Hux grumbles to himself and crosses his arms over his chest. He looks over at you, your eyes trained on the road as you talk about some sea cucumber you’d dubbed Calvin and the food truck you were currently taking him to. He wasn’t sure entirely what he’d gotten himself into when he first started to pursue you, but he felt a wisp of something curling in his chest. It wasn’t  _ terrible _ , he decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be honestly honest i didn't wanna like...........jump straight to relationship, y'know? this might be the only chapter where it's platonic, bc a relationship IS coming, but i hate it when fics are like   
> chapter one: you see character a. he looks at you  
> chapter two: i LoVe YoU fUcK mE  
> so i want a little bit more PREAMBLE, y'know? and hux and reader being more in each other's worlds. hux trying ramen noodles for the first time, reader going to a boring party, and hating it. not just "oh reader is broke all the time but she's always going to hux's things it's all about hux's day-to-day and she buys him fabulous things and it's all about the money and fancy things and fucking" mmmmmmmmmmnot with me! ANYWAY kudos and comments make my LIFE you guys!!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux, for the life of him, can't get you out of his head.

He’s looking a picture of you that he’d taken of you about a week ago. You’d been hanging out on and off for about two months now. You were laying on your couch, Diana kneading your thigh as you held a handheld video game system, and feet across his lap as he was supposed to be watching television. You’d both had the day off, and you’d invited him over for a “chill day”, apparently. Armitage had shown you the picture of course, asking if he could keep it. You’d waved him off, saying it was fine as long as he didn’t post it anywhere without telling you. It had unexpectedly become something he’d looked at a lot over the past few days, his eyes focusing and unfocusing on your facial expression, taut in concentration, or your pajama pants, one baggy leg bunched up around your thigh, the other going well over your foot. The afternoon light surrounded you in a way he thought was soft, almost reverent. 

“Armitage!” Someone barked. He immediately locked his phone, looking up.

“Yes, sir?”

“I asked you to brief me about this case, unless you’ve gone fucking deaf, because I know you aren’t ignoring me,” Brendol said, almost spitting that last part. Armitage sighed, then began a long, drawn-out explanation of the case. It was a simple divorce, really, and he thought there was no reason his father needed to yell at him like that. Of course, Brendol was always trying to find ways to exploit or embarrass him at work. In the past, it might’ve worked, when he was younger, but he knew now that his father was nothing without him, needed him, so he stayed silent, playing the part of the dutiful son, until another opportunity came along. His thoughts drift back to you, the words coming out robotically, as though rehearsed. 

* * *

He unlocks the door to his apartment, hand immediately going to the tie at his neck. He’s tempted to rip it away in anger, after the day he’s had. His father had been especially grinding all day, giving him no leeway. It had been infuriating, but there was one upside.

He’d gotten an email, from a man named Snoke. Snoke had apparently heard of Armitage and all he’s done for the Empire (the not-so-secret name for the law firm, given to it by other firms in the city), and wants to bring him to be the legal expert at his own company, First Order Incorporated. The email is still sitting in his inbox, unreplied to. There is no doubt in his mind he wants to do this, but he needs to wait a little, wait for the right opportunity. 

He makes his way to his kitchen, opening the door. It’s empty, as expected, and he sighs. He considers calling you, seeing if you’d like to go out, but then checks the time on his phone. It’s almost ten o’clock. He just shuts the fridge door and sits at the island, the black and chrome barstool scraping against the floor the only sound in the apartment. He drags his laptop towards him, booting it up. If there’s nothing here to eat, maybe he’ll see what other options he has. He orders delivery some place you had told him about once. The pizza from there was good, you’d said, but a little pricey. Now he laughs, a hollow sound, almost seeming to echo by itself in his home, as he sees the prices aren’t even something to sneeze at, at least for him.

As the pizza arrives a short hour later, he eats it out of the box on the island, catching up on the news as he eats. Before you, he never would’ve thought of doing this. Eating pizza, straight out of the box, no plate. Hell, even eating pizza at all. It was incredibly greasy and full of garbage, but, you had pointed out once, that was one of the benefits. 

After eating and cleaning up, Armitage gets ready for bed, putting on a pajama set and sliding under his expensive sheets. He briefly wonders what it would be like to have you here, in his bed. Just laying around, scrolling through something on your phone, perhaps Diana sleeping on your back. His heart seizes at the sudden thought. If Diana were in this little fantasy, it meant you lived with him. Does he want that? He quickly shakes his head. The two of you weren’t even dating. You were strictly platonic. Does he want that to change?

He grabs his phone from the nightstand beside him, unlocking it. An impulse had grabbed him earlier today, to change his homescreen. He wasn’t normally one to worry about such things, but today he had. Staring back at him, from behind the icons, was your picture. 

He spends the rest of the night, up and looking at it, thinking about what he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a lil smth about hux!! like, going towards relationship territory, but not YET, y'know? i want this to be the kind of thing where they REALLY love each other y'know? where they stay up all night thinking about each other, because they can't get each other off their minds. not just "hey i love you" "oh yea me 2" and then they settle into whatever. as sappy as this sounds it's the kind of love i want for MYSELF, y'know? i'm not saying settling into a routine or whatever is bad. but i just don't like that it's commonplace for it to be like, crush, then love, then slight problems (normally outside interference, bc apparently the couple's OWN relationship is just ALWAYS PEACHY until someone OUTSIDE of it interferes), then just bliss. there's no build up, there's no natural feel to it. i want that. i want my writing to feel natural.  
> AAAAANYWAY I GOTTA SHUT UP I HOPE YOU ENJOYED AND LEAVE COMMENTS AND KUDOS I LOVE YOU GUYS!!


	4. Chapter 4

_ You wake up to slight cramps and an arm on your waist. You exhale heavily, then start trying to slowly disentangle yourself from the arm. As soon as you start moving, Armitage tightens the arm around you, pulling you closer to himself. “You were the one who suggested a nap, darling. Are you that sickened by me?” _

_ You turn around, as best as you can, to see one blue eye cracked open, looking down at you, the other being smushed into the couch cushion you were both using as a pillow. “No, I just gotta take something, these cramps are fucking killing me, babe.” _

_ “Cramps? I didn’t know you were on your period,” Hux says, lifting his head to properly look at you. _

_ “Yea, well, it’s not really something I’d advertise, would I? ‘Oh hey everyone my vagina is bleeding and I feel terrible’,” You say sarcastically. “Besides, the remedy is easy. Pills and junk food. As you’ve already seen, I eat like garbage on a daily basis, so I’ve got that covered. Just lemme go grab some Mentstridol, and I’ll be fine.” _

_ Hux keeps his arm firmly around you. “You know, there is another way to ease your cramps,” He says, voice low in your ears. _

_ You squirm,  effectively turning back around, where you try to pry his fingers off of you. “Yea but that’s gross and no one’s ever done that for me before. Normally we wait out the week. I’ll be fine just let go!” _

_ “Oh but wouldn’t it be better this way?” Armitage asks, creeping one hand towards to waistband of your pajamas. “Wouldn’t you rather I fingerfuck you while you’re so incredibly sensitive? I’ll make it worth your while if you cum on my fingers right now.” _

_ You let out a high pitched grunt, resigning yourself to your fate. Whenever Armitage got like this, there was no stopping him. You’d learned that in Barcelona. His fingers slip bast our underwear, coming to rest on your mound. You nod, pressing your face into the cushion beneath you. He hums in delight, his fingers gathering some of your blood to trace around your clit. You nearly rocket out of his arms at the pressure, but he keeps you in place, trailing kisses up and down your neck.  _

_ “You’re so beautiful like this, you know. Sensitive, begging for my touch like a common whore. But you’re quite the contrary, aren’t you? You’re an expensive whore. You love when you let me fuck you, then fill your bank account, don’t you?” Hux whispers in your ear, his index finger gathering more arousal mixed with blood. You keen, one hand grasping your pajamas, the other on top of his own hand, an iron grip on it. _

_ “Armitage, please! Please, please, please let me cum!” _

_ “Oh? Begging now? How undignified,” He teases, relishing in the burn of your face and the slick, wet sounds of your cunt bending to his will. “I suppose you _ do _ want to cum, don’t you?” _

_ “Fuck! C’mon Hux, please!” You’re about ready to implode. His fingers tease your hole itself, dipping in now and again to tease, but most of the attention is on your clit. You’re ready to cry. _

_ He acquisies, focusing in on your clit with more fervor. You almost wail as you cum, your orgasm forcing more blood out of you. He rubs your through it, whispering small praises into your ear. You weakly moan and push his hand away when you start to border pain. He laughs a little, but pulls away.  _

_ “No more cramps?” He asks. You pout. _

_ “No.” _

_ “Good, now let’s go back to sleep. We don’t have dinner plans until six,” Hux replies, re-wrapping his blood covered hand around you. “I lov-” _

You wake up in a cold sweat, an uncomfortable beating between your legs. “What the _ **fuck**_!" You shout into the apartment, effectively scaring Diana from your side. You rolled over, groaning into your pillow. _ Me, attracted to Hux? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys!!! i REALLY didn't want a month to go by without updating owihgiru i really don't wanna be that author...........  
> but also!!! i recently published another fanfic!! it's a reader insert called Impression, Sunrise, and it's from the Harvest Moon series!!! (it's a farming sim, for those of u who don't know, with an optional marriage system!!) it's a series really close to my heart (especially the game my fanfic is abt, grand bazaar) and the guy it's about was my first ever lil crush!!! the work itself is super important to me and if u guys read it it would make me SUPER happy!!  
>  (*´ω｀*) (๑´ㅂ`๑)


	5. Chapter 5

“There’s a museum function tonight, would you like to attend?” Armitage asks as he scrolls through his phone.

“Is it gonna be like, _ fancy _ fancy, where I gotta wear my nicest clothes? Which, by the way, is a weird turtleneck sweater slash crop top thing I bought at the mall. Also if I raise my arms you can totally see my nipples, so that’ll be an issue,” You tell him, shaking the Joy Cons in your hands. 

Hux locks his phone and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Tell me you’re joking. Please.”

“Nope. It’s that or my waiter clothes, so, y’know?”

“Pause.” You pause your game and look at him, sitting cross-legged on your couch. “I’ll find you something to wear tonight, but will you come? I really do not want to have to attend another event by myself.” 

“Mm, I guess. Don’t you have other friends to invite? You’re a successful businessman. I’m sure you could scrounge up a date or something, even a friend,” You say. It isn’t that you really minded going, you were just curious why he had invited you. It’s not like you were upper class, or even knowledgeable about the finer things.

“I can’t get one this late. If I were to properly ask someone it’d be a month in advance,” He lied easily. The truth was he  _ didn’t  _ have anyone. His only “friend” was the son of a politician, and he was unbearable. He only met the man because his father regularly went head to head with his mother. He could’ve probably scared up a date, but he found he didn’t really want to go with anyone else, aside from you. 

You sigh dramatically. “I  _ guess _ . But where will you get clothes this late? And what time will I have to be ready by? It’s like, one-thirty now.”

“I have my ways. I’ll leave here now and go get things ready. The clothes will be here in three hours. You need to be ready by six o’clock,” Hux said, already tapping things into his phone once again. He gets up from the couch, giving one last pet to Diana’s head. She tries to follow his hand, then looks up at him with an expectant look on her face.

You pause your game. “Oh uh, okay. I’ll see you then, I guess.”

“Six o’clock. Don’t be late.” Is all he says before slipping on his shoes and leaving.

* * *

You were late. Armitage is standing in your apartment, trying to sidestep Diana as you rush around, rolling on deodorant. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_! I took a nap but I didn’t mean to it’s fine, Hux I can be ready in five minutes I promise I’ll be good.”

He lets you run around and pull on your clothes until you’re standing in front of him. It was fifteen minutes, but he doesn’t comment. “Shall we head down to the car? And I mean  _ my  _ car, not yours. I won’t be showing up to an event in a Toyota. We’ll be in a Benz and you will _ like  _ it.”

You make a face. “Damn, fine. The oh so holy Armi has t-”

“Don’t call me Armi. That’s not my name, nor will it ever be. That’s a nickname for a child and I am a fully grown man,” He interrupts, his voice sharp and a deep frown set on his face. 

“Jesus, okay. I get it.” You’d had your own rash of embarrassing or undesirable nicknames in your youth. You can understand why he’s defensive.

His mouth quirks up and he holds his hand out for your own. “Now let’s go we don’t want to be late the event starts at seven sharp.”

You gape at him and whack him on the chest. “You asshole! You made me think we were gonna be late! Fuck you!”

He laughs, a rare sound. In the back of your mind you think you’d like to hear more of it. “I knew you’d be scattered all over the place, so I gave you a false time so we’d get there when we’re actually supposed to.”

You scrunch your face up. “Is there even an event? Or are we going absolutely nowhere? What other lies have you told me? Is that even your real hair? Huh?”

“Yes there’s an event, no other lies, and yes, this is my real hair. Now, can we head down?”

You give him a look but nod. “There better be some bomb ass food there to make up for all this deceit.”

He smiles lightly. “If there isn’t I’ll send you some more money.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm!!!! not!!! dead!!!!! i'm gonna try to at least update once a month if not more i promise!!! i know this is short but the next chapter will be longer! n introduce some friends! also sorry to all the "armi" lovers out there lmao i just really don't think homeboy would be okay with it.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are IMMENSELY appreciated!!!!!! i love that u guys read and like my stuff!!!!!!!!!


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